Their Never-Ending Waltz
by tenroads
Summary: The waltz is a nine step dance that repeats. Myka Bering had always wondered how long she could continue this dance with her partner. Their Never-Ending Waltz. PYKA


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any rights to Warehouse 13.

**Their Never-Ending Waltz**

Myka Bering had always wondered how long she could continue this dance with her partner. Their never-ending waltz. How long could either of them continue to circle each other? To endlessly go through the nine steps of their dance. Were they doomed to spend forever in this purgatory? It seemed horribly unfair to Myka, to be trapped in this unending cycle, pounding on the walls of her prison desperate to escape. But what awaited her outside of that prison?

By now she had memorized the steps of their waltz: three steps of flirtation, friendship and comfort endlessly cycling. The steps were familiar and yet in the darkest hours of her despair, a new step was added to the dance: love. An odd word to be honest. How could a simple word made up of only four letters hold so much meaning? How could a single word evoke so many different emotions and cause even the most rational of people to act brashly and without reason?

She had felt love.

Her first crush came when she was 9, Bobby Jensen, the class clown. A crush brought about by the classic pulling of curled pigtails, tripping and unrelentingly cruel teasing, a crush that she was quick to quash and forget about. Even now she found herself chuckling at the notion of her silly childhood infatuation.

Her high school boyfriend, Jeremy Scott, was much like herself, an honor student and a bookworm. They had met in between the stacks and shelves of her family's bookstore. A chance meeting soon turned into repeated visits, which eventually became flirtation. That young flirtation soon blossomed into a relationship. First hand holding and going to the movies, then kissing and making out. Jeremy had been adoring. Perhaps too adoring. He had smothered her with affection demanding a lion's share of her time and affection becoming increasingly severe until she had broken it off. He begged her to reconsider for a week before moving on and spreading all that she had told him in confidence out into the cramped hallways of their school. The sheer betrayal of having her personal secrets unleashed into the judgmental and spiteful ears of her peers nearly destroyed her ability to trust others leaving her guarded and untrusting of others.

After that incident, she didn't bother with dating until college. College provided her with the freedom to pursue relationships with whoever she wanted without having to worry about the disapproval of her classmates. No one cared who she dated. Yet she had felt nothing for anyone of the boys that she had dated. No matter how many dates, no matter how much affection, she felt nothing for her boyfriends.

Then Sam came along.

She thought that she loved Sam, thought that Sam loved her back. He had been adoring, kind and spontaneous, their whirlwind romance had lasted months, but to her heart, it seemed like a single flicker. The forbidden passion that they had felt, him being a married man, had only intensified the feelings that she had felt for him. Their love affair sparked lit up like a fireworks show in the evening sky. One that had burned out with a sudden and tragic end.

Looking back, Myka couldn't be sure if what she felt for Sam was love. She couldn't even be sure that what she felt for Sam was anything other than lust and regret. Lust that was born from the stress of fieldwork. Regret over her childish crush on a married family man. A life lost because of her foolish emotions.

Of course there was also familial love.

Although her father had been cold, distant and demanding towards both her and her sister, Tracy, as he toiled away day and night to complete his novel, her mother had been warm and supportive to her precious daughters. She and Tracy leaned on each other for support growing up, enduring school, bullies, rumors, and growing pains. Together they helped each other weather through the storms of childhood and adolescence. The day she left for college had been one of the hardest days of her life, to leave her sister and venture off into a harsh world that had, time and time again, proven to be unforgivingly cruel to girls who grew up in bookstores.

She remembered silently crying as she watched her childhood home shrink in the distance in her rearview mirror as she drove away, her parents waving in her rearview mirror, Tracy sobbing as she watched her big sister leave the only home that she had known.

As time went on, Myka learnt to separate her emotions from her work, to distance herself from those around her. Emotional ramparts were put up, designed to protect her from the cold horrors of the real world. Nothing but heartache and pain awaited her outside of those walls. Sam had cracked her defenses over time with his caring nature and she had let him in. His death only caused her to fortify those walls. After Sam, she swore to herself that she would never let another in.

That was until Pete had come along. Like destiny and fate had somehow paired her up with him just so he could shatter her walls. Although she had initially found Pete to be overly impulsive and child-like in demeanor, she soon found herself laughing at his childishness and admiring the perseverance and willpower that he exhibited in even the worst situations. By some odd chance, fate had joined them together in the protecting of the warehouse. Together, forged from the burdens of their duties and the dangers of their job, they had created a family together.

A family.

Artie, the grumpy yet experienced warehouse agent who seemingly had an unrivaled knowledge about artifacts and their origins, had unwittingly and unwillingly fallen into the role of father and mentor to her and Pete. Though he could never truly replace her father or the father that Pete had lost, Myka was still happy that he was in her life. Yet time and time again, she found herself increasingly frustrated with the secrets that Artie had kept from the team. Secrets that had nearly destroyed the team on more than one occasion. Yet somehow, like a real family, the team pulled through the storms brought about by the keeping of secrets and came out stronger together than before.

Leena on the other hand stood on the opposite end of the spectrum from Artie. She had been warm and welcoming when they had first arrived at the warehouse, always eager to lend a helping hand, give advice or answer any questions that they may have had about the warehouse. How many times had she mediated conflicts within the team? How many times had her gift of Aura Reading given everyone insight into the motivations of the ones around them? Somehow Leena had become the team's peacemaker and the team's heart. A second sister.

Claudia was everyone's younger sister, mischievous, quick tongued, and eager to learn. Despite her intrusions, Claudia had quickly become an integral part of the team, always ready to build a device that had saved their lives on more than one occasion. Her good-natured sarcastic demeanor melded well with Pete's playful personality while her intelligence and her eagerness to learnt allowed for Myka to have wonderful conversations.

Then there was Pete. Pete, the child. Pete, the unprofessional. Pete, the person with complete and total disregard for protocol. Pete the man who had saved her life countless times, favors that she had returned time and time again. Pete, stupidly chivalrous and noble almost to a fault. Pete, the man who had helped her rebuild the broken relationship she had with her father. Pete, who had held her while she cried. Pete.

Silently she wondered just how long either of them could continue this dance as the band in the background played. Pete held her close as they moved through the steps of the waltz displaying a surprising amount of refinement and skill with this particular dance. The dress she wore was elegant and soft. It hugged her shoulders tightly, leaving her upper chest tastefully exposed; just enough to show skin, not enough to make her seem like a streetwalker. The cloth, chosen by Mrs. Frederick, was a deep blue embroidered with gold stitching in selected areas and stitched with tiny stones that glittered in the soft golden light of the room. She wore her hair up in an elegant sort of bun that was held together by a series of jeweled pins and clips that had taken an increasingly frustrated Claudia a good three hours to put onto her.

Pete led them through the dance, expertly weaving through the other dancers who flowed past them. He looked devilishly handsome in his tailored black suit and white silvery tie. A great contrast to his usual attire of t-shirts and jeans. The two spun with the other dancers, to the untrained eye, it appeared as if the two partners were natural dancers, even lovers. Pete's brown eyes only taking their eyes off of hers' to sneak occasional glimpses at their target, another dancer on the floor.

"Why, Mr. Latimer, I had no idea you were such a natural at this." She said in a teasing tone of voice.

"My high school football coach made me take dance lessons. Said it would help me with my balance and coordination." Pete replied blushing sheepishly, his hand kept a strong grip on the curve of her back, never daring to travel any lower.

They moved with the rhythm of the string quartet, maneuvering their way through the ballroom with grace and speed. Never letting their target out of their sight. They turned with the music and her eyes hastily searched the room finding their target with ease while Pete did a quick scan of the room. Maybe this was why they made such a great team, they were always in sync with one another, a silent unspoken bond that surpassed any relationship she had ever had in her life. She watched him closely as he led them through the dance floor, dodging other dancers with practiced ease.

It felt right to be in his arms as they danced together like two lovers who had grown accustomed to each other's presence. Perhaps if they had met in another life where they were free of the burden of the Warehouse, they could dance intimately without any false pretenses. They could just be two people in love spending a romantic night together.

No.

No good would come from her dreaming.

Perhaps this was all they were meant to be. Perhaps they were meant to continue their never-ending waltz, always returning to the same step with both members longing for more. A fitting punishment for failing to prevent Sam's death: for her to be forever imprisoned within this unchanging, unyielding purgatory. Was she doomed to spend the rest of her life wishing for a love that may never blossom?

No.

Myka had known how to end the dance for a long time now. Fear had only kept her from doing so. Fear of rejection. Fear of heartbreak. Fear of loss. But now something had changed, she could feel it in the air between them, the fear had dissipated into the atmosphere, replaced with something else. Could it be love? Softly, slowly she tilted her head and closed her eyes, hoping for something.

Hoping for an escape.

Hoping for a change.

Then she felt it. His lips on hers, the electricity between them crackled like thunder in the skies. It was unlike any kiss she had ever experienced. She breathed in his scent, redwood trees with just the slightest hint of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. His hand on her back strengthened its hold on her, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. She responded in kind by opening her mouth to him allowing their tongues to dance together in unison. The music faded into silence. Time stopped. Nothing mattered to Myka but this one moment in time where Pete, her partner, her confidant, her friend, and the man that she loved, was kissing her. It didn't matter to her that she was letting him in; he had demolished the walls that she had put up ages ago. She had let him into her heart.

Around her she could feel the dancers continue their waltz around them, like flowers floating on a summer's breeze. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered to her except this moment.

Eventually, the kiss ended, leaving the two of them gasping for breath and staring at each other. Pete's eyes exposing his soul, filled with surprise, happiness and hope for the future. Within the background, the band had begun to play a new song, and Pete began to lead once again. It was at that moment Myka realized that their never-ending waltz had not ended, just changed into something different. It was at that moment, as she looked into Pete's brown eyes that she saw her future.

A/N: Reviews and constructive criticism are very welcome.


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